


Somewhere Between the Crossroads and the Righteous Man

by whiskeydays



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Annoying Sam, Bottom Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Demon Sam Winchester, Hunter Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Solo Hunter Dean, Top Sam, Wincest - Freeform, crown of thorns kink, how is that even a kink I honestly don't know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2018-08-23 05:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8316235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeydays/pseuds/whiskeydays
Summary: Hunter Dean Winchester is used to flying solo and he has been hunting alone since his father died couple of years ago. But a particularly difficult case with a lot at stake forces him to rely on some unwanted help. Not only is the demon, Sam, really annoying but his presence makes Dean feel uneasy with his sexuality for the first time in years. Then things start to unravel and Dean is forced to face the fact that not everything in life is black and white. Not even demons.





	1. JOHN 8:44

**Author's Note:**

> I am a horrible, horrible person. I have so many fics I'm working on at the same time but hey, let's start another one, shall we. I just couldn't resist the urge to write about demon/boy king Sammy. Sam makes one hot-ass demon and I've seen such amazing fan art of Boy King Sam that I just had to write something. Sorry not sorry. Besides flustered Dean is the best kind of Dean, especially when it's Sam causing Dean to feel that way. Not sure if all the small details about demon powers and such are on point but I had to make some alterations for them to suit the story.
> 
> Not beta read and I'm not a native English speaker nor do I own any of these marvellous characters.

“I woke up one morning to know that I had gone  
Finally taken the step and jumped right off the wall  
When you come to call on me that's why my eyes are glazed  
I've been with the devil in the devil's resting place  
I am loathed to say that I have been to stay  
I've been with the devil in the devil's resting place

When you ask to drink of me I think out on the case  
Look down to my aloe cup and take myself a taste  
Bitterness is thick like blood and cold as a wind sea breeze  
If you must drink of me, take of me what you please  
I am loathed to say it's the devil's taste  
I've been with the devil in the devil's resting place

Water won't clean you, water won't clean you  
You only hold yourself to the things you do

Come up here to speak to me and hold your face to mine  
Any man can hold my gaze has done his job just fine  
You just sold your life away to be with me tonight  
Hold your head against my chest, I think you'll be just fine  
I am loathed to say it's the devil's place  
I go with the devil where the devil rests his face  
I've been with the devil where the devil rests his face

Water won't clean you, water won't clean you.”  
(Laura Marling- Devil’s Resting Place)

 

Dean Winchester hadn’t been absolutely sure about many things during his lifetime but there were two things he knew for certain. One: you should always keep a bottle of scotch and a gun with you wherever you went. And two: if he wouldn’t be able to make some progress with the case he was working with, his skull would split open from overthinking. Good luck and godspeed, Dean Winchester. What a glorious ending would that be for a noble hunter. Defeated by his own inadequacy. 

Dean rubbed his temples again. His mind was filled with different dates and names and locations. He had been tracking the demon in question for over two months now and still nothing. He had literally gone nowhere. He hadn’t left the motel room he was currently living in except for the occasional visit to the grocery store and to the local bar when the case got the best of him and he felt in need for a nice cup of blackout drunk. 

The demon he had been after was one sneaky son of a bitch. Dean had first noticed something was going on when there had been a small town after a small town in the rural areas of Kansas suffering from the same types of ritualistic sacrifices. Dean had been trying to locate the cause. First he had suspected a witch or a coven but there was something weird about the sacrifices. Something almost familiar but still Dean hadn’t been able to pinpoint what it was. 

It took him some time to figure out it was the numbers. The sacrifices came in sixes and threes; six victims in three different places. Six men killed on a cemetery. Then a mile away six children nailed to trees. Then another mile away six women gutted over a makeshift altar. Dean hadn’t thought about the numbers until the same thing happened in another town. Then it clicked. Six, six, six in total, then a change of scenery and style. Then another six, six, six. And the pattern continued.

When Dean had figured out the mystery pattern, it was much easier for him to look up similar occurrences and hit up the lore with the newfound information. And boy did he find it. It was a series of ritualistic sacrifices which were meant to work as some kind of a kick start for the next phase. Unfortunately, there were no remaining scriptures of what the hell the next phase was supposed to be. But Dean was able to find the end results. If performed right, all the phases would result with the gates of Hell not only opening but vanishing all together, bringing the Apocalypse and Hell on Earth. Quite literally. It would mean the end of the world and the end of mankind.

Dean had tried to consult anyone he could reach who might know something about the whole ritual but so far he had jack squat and he was becoming desperate. The other hunters and priests and other specialists of the supernatural seemed to know exactly as much about the ritual as Dean. The longer Dean tried to track down someone who might have some information about the ritual the more desperate he got. The world could end any minute and there would be nothing Dean could do to stop it and it was driving him crazy.

So Dean went to the local dive bar. He sat there and drank and stared at the amber liquid in his glass, totally lost in his thoughts. He refused any company, even a very beautiful blonde with legs up to high heavens. That moment Dean knew he would have to lower his standards when it came to research methods and rely on desperate measures. He couldn’t keep running in circles and just wait for the hellfire to reach the soles of his shoes.

So Dean drove back to the motel and collected some stuff he knew he would need. He hated himself already for what he was about to do but he kept repeating ‘desperate times, desperate measures’ in his head like a mantra. It didn’t make him feel much better though. He took one last look at the motel room. He would come and get the rest of his stuff later on. If there was a later on for Dean.

Dean threw the duffel in the trunk of the Impala and stuffed the Kurdish knife into the waistband of his jeans. He might need it where he was going. Dean slid into the car and drew off. He made a quick pit stop at the local cemetery before heading towards his final destination. 

Dean parked the car at the side of a deserted road and got out. He opened the trunk and rummaged around for a while before he found what he was looking for. A small metallic box. He emptied the graveyard dirt from his pocket into the box. Then he added his real driver’s license, the yarrow and the bone of a black cat. “Poor kitty”, Dean whispered as he closed the lid of the box. Then he took a can of spray paint and closed the trunk.

When Dean was ready with the paint job he did on the ground he stood up and threw the empty can into the ditch. Then for a moment Dean just stood there and admired his work. The almost full moon on the sky was the only thing lighting the scenery, otherwise everything was pitch black. Dean felt a shiver run down his spine. A bad feeling. Then Dean shook his head, as if that would make all his doubts go away. He tried to blame the shivers on the eerie feeling of the crossroads.

At that exact moment Dean felt a familiar but still unpleasant sting in his chest. Here he was again. Standing alone against all odds, no one by his side, trying to catch all of Hell’s most devious creatures with his bare hands. Dean stared at the moon like it could magically provide him with company. His mother had died when he was just a child and his father had passed away few years ago. After that there was no one but Dean to hold up the fort and continue the Winchester family name and hunter bloodline. And just like for the past two years, it was only him standing up against hell again. 

“Through Hell and high water”, Dean muttered to himself. It had become somewhat of a mantra for him, a reassurance before he ran head first into the fight. Dean was a born and raised fighter, a soldier true to his cause until his last breath. Usually keeping himself busy worked and if he occasionally felt in the need of some human touch, he could always get drunk and find company for the night. Until the day light presented him with the gruesome reality. 

It was just him, his gun, Baby and the open road. Dean lived by the gun and he had prepared to die by the gun. Most of the time he was able to tell himself that this was the only lifestyle that suited him. But sometimes, just sometimes, he looked at the empty seat next to him and almost reached his hand out, longing for someone to reach back and take his hand in theirs. Someone to fight the fight with him, side by side until the very end.

Dean shook his head again, trying to rid his mind of such sentimental crap and focus on the task at hand. Dean knelt at the middle of the crossroads and dug a small hole in which he buried the metal box in. Then he got up and made sure he still had his knife. “Through Hell and high water”, Dean whispered one last time. Like a prayer before the devil came knocking. Which it kind of was.

“You called?” a man’s voice said behind Dean which caused Dean to spin around and reach for the knife. And there it was. Dean didn’t know what he had expected but not what he was seeing at the moment, that’s for sure. The man seemed to be around the same age as Dean, in his late twenties, maybe a bit younger if you took a closer look. He was tall, taller than Dean, way over six feet. A shoulder-length warm toned brown hair framed his face beautifully. And something on top of those silky locks which Dean wasn’t quite able to see because of the darkness surrounding them. Broad shoulders and muscular arms. Narrow waist and long, lean legs. No, this was most certainly not what Dean had had in mind when he had imagined a crossroads demon.

The man’s striking hazel eyes shined almost amber in the moonlight. ‘Apparently it is true what they say, the devil does come as everything you’ve ever wished for’, Dean thought to himself and hated himself instantly. ‘Get yourself together, Dean. That man can tear you into pieces in a heartbeat, you have to be alert and prepared’, he scolded himself. The demon tilted his head, eyeing Dean up and down and Dean’s gaze lingered on the weird accessory on the man’s head, trying to make out what it was in the darkness of the night. Then it hit him. It was a crown. A crown of thorns.

“You actually have something you want from me? I have places to be, deals to make. Can’t have your pretty face taking my whole night. Even though it truly is very pretty”, the demon said, accentuating his words with a slow smile. Now it was Dean’s turn to smile devilishly. “Oh, I don’t think you’re going anywhere until I want you to”, Dean said and motioned at the devil’s trap the demon was standing in.

Unfortunately, noticing that he was standing in a devil’s trap did not have the desired effect on the demon. Before Dean had time to react, the demon had taken two huge steps and walked out of the trap. Dean’s mouth dropped open. That was not supposed to be possible. He had read everything he had been able to find about crossroads demons. They weren’t supposed to be capable of getting out of the trap. The demon crossed his hands over his chest and smiled at Dean. “Any other cool tricks I should know about? You should know, I am not a patient man. You might wanna get to the point before I get bored and decide to decorate this trap with your intestines, doll face”, the demon said, staring at his nails like talking to Dean was the most tedious thing he had ever had to endure.

Dean composed himself again. He was now holding the knife in his hand. That got the demon’s attention. “Is that a Kurdish knife? Nice. Those are quite rare. Maybe you do know something after all. Well tell me, what is it that you want? Riches and more riches? Your enemies tortured for all eternity? Rule the world? Those are the most common ones, along with sex and good looks but looking at you I would throw a wild guess you are not in the need of either, doll face”, the demon said, his voice tempting and rough. He stared at Dean’s body and licked his lips.

“None of the above actually. I need information on a certain demon”, Dean said and observed the demon’s immediate reaction. Years of interrogation had thought him that the knee-jerk reaction usually indicated how the rest of the conversation would go. The demon just raised an eyebrow, looking only very mildly interested. “Well that’s just boring. But then again I don’t think I’ve ever met a hunter I would have found even mildly interesting”, the demon said, straightening the crown of thorns on his head. ‘What a weird accessory’, Dean thought to himself again. 

“There is a demon I’ve been tracking for a while now. He’s been doing ritualistic sacrifices of the Beast, Gathering of the Sixes I think it’s called. Well I haven’t been able to find him nor can I find a person, living or dead, who would know what the next part of the ritual is. All I know is that the aim of the whole thing is to…”, Dean explained but was cut off by the demon. “Bring Hell on Earth”, the demon said, looking much more interested now. “So you know about the ritual?” Dean asked and felt a flicker of hope spark inside himself. Good, finally he was getting somewhere.

“Yes, I am very much aware of it. It’s called ‘The Rise of Gehenna’. And the Gathering of the Sixes is just the beginning, believe me”, the demon said, sounding oddly grim. Somehow Dean had assumed the demon to be thrilled about the events. Didn’t every demon want Hell to break loose and all its inhabitants to roam free on Earth?  


“So any advice on how to stop it?” Dean asked even though he knew that was a bit far-fetched. But he was desperate. “Who’s the demon who is doing this? What name do they go by?” the demon asked and took a step closer to Dean. They were now both standing inside the devil’s trap. Dean had the Kurdish knife in such a tight grip he could feel the handle chafe his skin to the point it almost teared open.

“Gremory”, Dean said. That was one of the only things he knew for sure and even that was only because he had been able to interrogate a witch who had worked as an accomplice for the demon on one of the sacrifices. When Dean said the name, there was a fast expression on the demon’s face until he was able to compose himself again. “You know him?” Dean asked. There was a weird expression shadowing the demon’s handsome features.

“Her. And yes, I know her”, the demon answered, sounding like he was gritting his teeth. Dean was feeling pleased. This was going way better than he had assumed it would. “So you know how the ritual continues?” Dean asked, feeling anxious. He felt like he was close to solving the case. “I happen to have read the handbook, yes”, the demon answered, looking like his mind was somewhere else entirely. Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Handbook? There’s a book for it?” Dean asked, his heartbeat speeding up. “The Lesser Key of Solomon”, the demon answered and Dean’s mood dropped. Of course. The demon had been just playing with him. If Dean hadn’t been so damn excited, he would have noticed that there was something weird about the way the demon just gave Dean all the answers even though he wasn’t even bound by the devil’s trap. He could have just left Dean high and dry and disappear since the trap seemed to hold no power over him.

“I have the Lesser Key of Solomon in the trunk of my car. I’ve read it through about a hundred times. Not once does it mention The Rise of Gehenna or anything like it”, Dean said, gripping the knife tighter again. The demon just rolled his eyes. “Humans. Just because you have one version of something you think you hold all the answers. Ever stop to think that maybe the books you own might have been longer and some parts just got lost over time? Lesser Key of Solomon is actually a huge grimoire and the parts humans have the access to aren’t even one tenth of the whole book”, the demon said, getting all of Dean’s attention again.

“But you have access to it, right? You can get it for me?” Dean asked, feeling something bubble inside himself again even though he knew how naïve and stupid he sounded. Talking to a demon like it was a reasonable human being. If his father had seen him at the moment, he would've kicked Dean’s ass to Hell and back. The demon laughed at Dean. “Yeah, sure let me just make a quick visit to Hell’s library and use my card to lent you a copy of it, dear. What the fuck do I look like to you, human, Amnesty International? The Red fucking Cross? This ain’t no charity work, pretty. I’ve already told you much more than you deserve for free. Now it’s time to talk business”, the demon chuckled. The sound made shivers run down Deans spine and gave him goosebumps.

“I don’t make no deals with demons. I’m not that stupid”, Dean said through gritted teeth. The demon laughed menacingly. “Oh, doll face, I’m gonna make you an offer you can’t refuse”, the demon replied with a bad Godfather imitation. Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah right, let me guess, you make me a nice promise and when I turn my back you stab me with my own knife? No thank you, I have seen enough demon deals to know they never end well”, Dean said, slowly backing away. Since he would get nothing more out of the demon he might as well leave.

The demon gave him the stink eye and snapped his fingers. With a soft rustling sound, a parchment appeared into the demon’s hand. “You know how demon deals work right? Everything that is written on the paper I must obey. After the deal is sealed I cannot back away from it nor can I break it”, the demon said. Dean nodded. He had seen enough demon deals to know that the demon was telling the truth. Once sealed, neither of them could break or change the deal unless they both agreed on it. 

“Read it”, the demon said, handing Dean the small piece of parchment. Dean eyed the demon up and down before slowly taking a step forth and quickly grabbing the piece of paper from him. He glanced at the parchment quickly, while keeping an eye on the demon at the same time. To Dean’s amazement the parchment consisted only of two sentences:

'I will accompany the hunter in question with his hunt of Gremory and help him stop the Rise of the Gehenna with all the knowledge that I possess and after that I will leave and leave the hunter alone forever. I will under no circumstances hurt the hunter in question and I will protect his life with all my power.  
Sam.'

“Why?” was the only thing Dean could muster. The demon, Sam, gave Dean an evil grin. “Because I have a bone to pick with the bitch”, the demon answered. Dean contemplated on the options. He read the words over and over again in his head but wasn’t able to find a loophole. At least not one that would be worse than the other option; if he didn’t agree he would be right back to where he had started. Jack with a side of squat. So slowly Dean nodded.

“Okay. I agree”, Dean said, his heart hammering in his ears and his gut telling him he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life. The demon grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Well isn’t this just my lucky day. Come here, doll face. Show me that you mean it”, the demon cooed. Dean swallowed hard and took a few steps until he was face to face with the demon. He still had a firm grip on the knife just in case the demon was able to escape from the contract like he had escaped from the devil’s trap. 

The demon just smiled, a self-satisfied grin playing on his lips once again. Then he placed his hand on Dean’s cheek and even though Dean tried to act like it had no effect on him, the sudden feel of cool skin against his cheek made him shiver. And even though he had decided to keep his eyes open just in case the demon had a trick up his sleeve, when the demon’s soft lips touched Dean’s own, he closed his eyes. It was very brief kiss, only a couple of seconds, just a gentle peck on the lips but it almost knocked Dean off his feet. ‘It’s the contract’s power coursing through my body, nothing more’, Dean’s inner voice tried to convince him.

Dean opened his eyes and took a step back and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. The demon kept smiling the same, self-satisfied smile as before and lifted the parchment he was holding in his hand in front of his face to observe it. Dean looked at his own hand. The parchment had doubled so that they were now both holding a copy. “Well, I must say that was a very pleasant way to seal a deal. We should do it again sometime…”, the demon lifted the parchment to his face and read the name that had formed on it during their kiss. “Dean Winchester”.


	2. EPHESIANS 6:11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit short but I hope you enjoy it anyways :) Ephesians 6:11: "Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes."

“So I guess I can just summon you when I need you? I gotta get going now”, Dean said to the demon and turned to leave. “But doll face, I thought we were having a moment here. Or do you kiss all the hot guys you meet at crossroads?” Sam chuckled and straightened his crown. ‘What a weird fucker’, Dean thought to himself and started walking to his car. Unfortunately, Sam followed.

“Don’t think you’ll get rid of me this easily. We have a contract now. I promised to protect and assist you and the contract is something I must obey, like it or not. So I guess you’ll be stuck with me for now, huh?” Sam said with a mischievous smile. Dean turned around to face the demon. “No thank you. I don’t need a smart-ass demon annoying me to high heaven. Besides, I work better alone anyways. Always have. Like I said, I’ll summon you when I need your help”, Dean said and opened his car door. But Sam was resilient and before Dean knew what had happened, Sam was sitting on the passenger’s seat of the Impala.

Dean stared at the demon who was now picking his nails, looking like he was just waiting for Dean to stop yammering and get in. Dean held the driver side door open and stared at the demon sitting inside, trying to suppress his rage the best he could. “Get. Out. Of. The. Car!” Dean growled through gritted teeth. Sam just stared at him and tilted his head. “No”, the demon simply stated. Dean closed his eyes and took a long, calming breath. 

“You can yell at me all you want, doll face, I ain’t going nowhere. The moment you sealed the deal with me, you became my number one priority and I’m not gonna let you out of my sight. Do you know what happens to demons who break their deals? Nothing good, that’s what. So too bad for you, pretty, because I don’t give a flying rat’s ass about you ‘working better alone’. You’re stuck with me now. So are you gonna get in or what? I don’t fancy sitting in a cold car in the middle of assfuck nowhere waiting for you to get over your temper tantrum”, Sam said, staring at Dean intensely, his pretty hazel eyes now pitch black. 

Dean sighed but slid inside the Impala nevertheless. He started the car and drove off. With his peripheral vision he observed Sam. The demon looked fairly normal; bulky boots, dark blue jeans, black V-neck shirt and a plaid flannel on top of it. Dean could have easily mistaken him for a human if it weren’t for the weird accessory on the demon’s head. “We are going to the motel and there are going to be other people. I don’t know about you but I prefer to stay as unnoticeable as possible”, Dean said to the demon, trying to keep his eyes on the road instead of Sam but Dean could still see that Sam had turned to face him.

“And by that you’re trying to say, what, that I’m too handsome to be unnoticeable? Well too bad for you I’m already aware of that but there is very little I can do about it. I tried to look ugly once, didn’t really work out the way I planned. This package is just too gorgeous. I’m sorry if it makes you lose concentration”, Sam said and Dean could feel the demon sliding over the seat to be closer to him. Dean didn’t look at Sam but the grip he had on the wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. 

“Just lose the crown, okay? I don’t know what kind of a messiah complex you have but it attracts too much unwanted attention”, Dean said and looked at Sam defiantly. The look on Sam’s face caught Dean off guard. He had expected something between self-satisfied and cocky but instead Sam looked astounded. “What?” Sam asked with a frown. Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on man, I’m not asking much. We need to slide under the radar, go unnoticed. It’s not gonna happen if you keep prancing around like the demonic version of Jesus. What kind of an accessory is the crown of thorns anyways, is it some kind of a symbol or something?” Dean asked, glancing at Sam. The demon had a funny expression on his face, he looked like Dean had said something totally unexpected.

“You can see my crown?” Sam asked, his voice something other than cocky or amused for the first time he had gotten into the car. “Of course I can see it I’m not fucking blind!” Dean snarled. He was starting to lose his patience. He was done with games. “Ah yes I must’ve accidentally left it to be seen by humans. Let me fix it”, Sam said and snapped his fingers. Dean glanced at the demon. The crown was gone. “Good. Now sit tight and behave”, Dean said and focused all his attention to the road again.

**********

They arrived to the motel half an hour later. Sam had stayed quiet the rest of the drive which Dean was thankful for. It had been a long-ass day and he needed to rest and have some quiet time. Dean parked the car in front of the motel he had been living for a while now and got out of the car. He stretched himself and let out a satisfied moan when his joints made small popping sounds all over his body. When he opened his eyes, Sam was staring at him with a smug smile on his face. Dean’s good mood hit rock bottom instantly.

“Oh doll face, what do I have to do to have you making those delicious noises with me?” Sam asked and licked his lips. Dean felt an unwanted blush creeping up his cheeks but hoped Sam wouldn’t notice it in the dim light of the motel parking lot. No such luck, Sam chuckled and winked at Dean. “You look extra pretty when you blush. I like the way it makes your freckles pop. I would love to see all the other places you might have freckles at…”, Sam cooed, laughing at Dean’s obvious discomfort. 

Dean tucked his head and marched to the trunk. He took out some guns, books and other stuff he thought he might need. “Don’t worry yourself with the guns. You don’t need any of that when you’re with me”, Sam said and waved his hand at Dean dismissively. “Yeah but I might need them against you”, Dean muttered. Sam grabbed his own chest like he was in agony. “Oh how he scorns!” the demon wailed. Dean rolled his eyes. Sam was a real pain in the ass and he hadn’t even spent two hours with the demon.

“So you getting a room or what? You sure as hell ain’t sleeping in Baby”, Dean said, walking towards his motel room door. Sam followed him like a puppy. “Baby? Oh you mean the car! Haha, don’t worry, I sure as hell ain’t sleeping in that thing. No offense”, Sam added when Dean turned to give him a murderous glare. “I was thinking since were pretty must besties by now that we would share your room”, Sam said. Dean stopped in his tracks so suddenly Sam collided with him. 

Dean turned around, this time actually pissed off. “Okay let’s get something straight, shall we? We’re not ‘besties’. If we didn’t have this deal and if I didn’t need your help, I would send your ass straight back where it belongs. Down below. I despise you and all the likes of you. I think the only good kind of a demon is a dead demon and when this whole ordeal is over and I have stopped Gremory, I don’t ever wanna see you again. Am I making myself clear? And stop calling me doll face and pretty, it’s starting to seriously piss me off”, Dean said, wanting nothing more than to punch that arrogant fuck in the face.

Sam tilted his head and frowned at Dean. “Okay, I understand everything else and I can deal with that but if I can’t call you doll face or pretty what am I supposed to call you then?” Sam asked like it was a legit question. Dean stared at the demon, sure he would soon suffer an aneurysm. “How about my real fucking name!? And if you by any chance already forgot, it’s Dean!” Dean almost yelled but was cut off by Sam. The demon pushed Dean against the motel wall and kissed him feverishly, taking advantage of Dean’s already open mouth and slithered his tongue into Dean’s mouth.

For a moment Dean was totally caught off guard and he actually allowed Sam’s tongue to caress his own. Dean’s eyes were half-closed and Sam had tilted Dean’s face upwards. Sam had wrapped his other hand behind Dean’s back and the other one was leaning against the wall. Dean was stuck between the tall demon and the tile wall. When Sam grinded himself against Dean and Dean could feel Sam’s hard on against his own thigh, he snapped out of the trance and tried to push Sam off of himself. Sam didn’t want to let go though so Dean punched him in the face.

That made Sam stumble back, holding his face, blood staining his teeth and lips. Dean was huffing with anger but Sam just laughed like a maniac, like this was the best time the demon had had in ages. “Fuck, doll face! If I didn’t know better I could have sworn that for a moment there you were just as into it as I was”, Sam laughed. Dean spat on the ground at the demon’s feet, turned around and unlocked his motel room door. Then he walked in and slammed the door shut as hard as he could. Dean locked the door and leaned against it, sliding to the floor. He rubbed his face with his palms. What had he gotten himself into?

**********

Sam sat on the bench in front of the motel and dug out a pack of Lucky Strikes. He flipped one out of the pack and put it between his lips. He snapped his fingers quietly and the end of the cigarette lit up. Sam stared into the darkness, totally lost in his thoughts. He knew what Dean was. He had to be, there was no other choice. Dean had been able to see Sam’s crown even though it was supposed to be impossible for all humans. Hell, it was impossible for normal humans. But Dean wasn’t your run of the mill Joe Average, not by a long shot.

Sam flicked the rest of the cigarette away, watching it fly through the night air like a firefly and land on the gravel. Sam would have to keep pretending that he was a normal demon, at least for the time being. If Dean knew who he really was, it might mess things up majorly. Sam got up and in a blink of an eye he was gone.


	3. JAMES 1:3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry sorry sorry! I know it's taken a bloody forever for me to update but here it finally is! Thank you so much for the lovely comments and kudos and for putting up with my slow-ass this long :) hope it's not too boring compared to the first two chapters! I'll try and be quicker with the next update, promise! As always, all mistakes are mine and mine alone.

“Standing at the crossroads   
A dried up pen in hand  
The conversation went like this  
'Tell me your desire why you pulled me from the fire   
and we'll seal the deal with a kiss'  
said 'I wanna raise the dead  
Find a note that I can shred  
On my walls I scrawl my gods  
Don't care what happens when I die  
As long as I'm alive  
All I wanna do is rock, rock, rock!'

Take me down.”  
(The Pretty Reckless- Take Me Down)

The next morning Dean stirred awake slowly, stretching himself thoroughly, feeling his morning glory bump softly against his stomach. Dean slid his hand along his stomach and cupped his now fully hard cock, moaning softly as he planned on making use of it since he had time. He always slept naked and his covers had slipped off during the night, the morning sun warming his bare skin. But someone clearing their throat on the other side of the room made Dean jump and reach for the gun he kept under his pillow.

“As much as I would love to see how the show continues, believe me I would, I have to point out that if I keep looking at your gorgeous ass for a moment longer the situation will turn into something R rated”, Sam said rather calmly from the kitchen corner. Dean drew the covers up to his chest but lowered the gun. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Dean growled, his voice hoarse from sleep. Sam sighed like he was bored of all the questions. “Well, since I am in fact a very nice human being, I brought your sorry ass some coffee and breakfast so we can get this shit-show on the road as soon as possible. You people with your sleep. So time-consuming not to mention boring as fuck”, Sam said, squinting his eyes as he stared at Dean. 

“Well first of all you are the furthest thing from a human being and second of all how in the hell did you get into the room? I’ve demon proofed this shithole from top to bottom”, Dean said and got up, wrapping the bed sheet around himself into a makeshift toga. Sam averted his gaze and didn’t answer Dean’s question. Not that Dean had expected the demon to tell all his dirty little secrets to a hunter anyways. Dean walked to the kitchen side of the room where Sam was sitting. Dean’s mouth watered at the sight of coffee and the slice of pie Sam had brought him. The demon was one smooth fucker, Dean had to admit.

Dean’s raging hunger got the best of him and he sat down opposite of Sam and took a huge sip of the coffee. It was creamy but still strong and absolutely delicious. Dean took the box with the pie in it and took a bite. He almost moaned at the taste. It was cherry pie, his favorite and it was still warm. Dean almost got hard again at the sensations rushing through his body.

“Damn this is some good pie!” Dean mumbled with his mouth full. Sam rolled his eyes like that was the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course it is. I don’t do anything half-assed. Which brings us to the problem at hand. Gremory. I don’t know where she is at the moment or what she is planning because she has made herself untraceable even for me. But I know where we can start. There’s a witch we need to go see. She will help us find Gremory. Well, she won’t be jumping from joy to help but I can make her”, Sam said, watching with immense fascination how Dean was practically having oral sex with the slice of pie.

“So as soon as you’re done making out with the pie, you can pack your bags and I’ll teleport us to the witch. I already did a locating spell, I know where she is hiding”, Sam said, fighting the urge to reach over the table and lick the jam from the corner of Dean’s mouth. He had a feeling Dean might not appreciate it though, even if Sam wasn’t exactly sure why. Most people would have paid to have Sam lick their face and Sam was willing to do it to Dean free of charge. Sam guessed some people were just ungrateful.

Dean shook his head and mumbled something incoherent, his mouth still full of pie. “No fucking way. You’re not teleporting me anywhere. The next thing I know I’m locked up in one of Hell’s deepest dungeons or some shit”, Dean protested, swallowing the rest of his pie. Sam squinted and tilted his head. “What are you trying to say?” Sam asked. Dean would’ve laughed if he wasn’t already so tired of Sam acting dumb. “Let me simplify it for ya: hell no, I won’t go. If you wanna teleport that’s more than fine by me, but I’m taking Baby and driving. Just give me the coordinates”, Dean said and finished the rest of his coffee even though it was still a bit too hot. He needed to get away from Sam before his head exploded.

“You don’t trust me”, Sam stated, sounding almost hurt. ‘Some nerve he got’, Dean thought to himself. “Noooo, don’t say that. Whatever gave you that idea?” Dean said and rolled his eyes. Apparently sarcasm and sass where the only way to get through with the fuckwit. Sam looked annoyed. “Gimme some credit, I’m under a fucking contract here!” Sam protested. “You managed to get out of the Devil’s trap. You got into this room even though I’ve used all the wards ever made. So yeah, safe to say I don’t trust a word that comes out of your mouth”, Dean said and got up. He wrapped the bed sheet tightly around himself, unwilling to get dressed in front of Sam, and started throwing stuff into his duffel. The sooner he got out of the room and away from Sam the better.

“Fine. We’ll drive then. But I must warn you, it’s a two day’s drive. Even if we hurry”, Sam said and tried to look over Dean’s shoulder to see what the man was taking out of the bedside drawer. Dean was clearly using his body to hide it from Sam which of course sparked Sam’s curiosity. What kind of dirty little secrets was the noble hunter hiding? Sam didn’t have enough time to inspect the matter further when Dean spun around, his eyes sparkling with anger. “We? WE? No, we are not driving anywhere, I am. You can teleport there whenever you want. Hell, you can drive in a car behind me the whole way or take the fucking bus if it makes you happy but there is no way I’m spending two days in a car with you”, Dean huffed.

Sam didn’t say anything. He saw that this time Dean was serious, so angry it came from him in waves and almost knocked Sam off his feet. He decided it was for the best not to annoy the hunter any further. At least not right then. “Did I not make myself clear earlier? Where you go, I go. No exceptions. I promise I won’t annoy you”, Sam promised and held a hand out for Dean to shake. The hunter looked at it like Sam was offering him poison. “Your promises don’t mean jack shit to me. You’ve done nothing but annoy me for the past day or so and I’m already fed up with you. This was a mistake from the start. Let’s just break the contract and go our separate ways. I’ll hunt the bitch down myself”, Dean said and rubbed his face with the palm of his hand, already wishing for the day to end even though he had just woken up. 

“Brilliant idea. And how exactly are you gonna gank the bitch without my assistance? You don’t even know where to start!” Sam growled through gritted teeth. The hunter was one stubborn asshole. “I don’t know but I’ll figure something out. Why do you even care that much? What has she done to get you so worked up for?” Dean said and crossed his hands over his chest, expecting some stupid-ass demon rivalry thing. “She killed my mom”, Sam said quietly. Dean’s anger died out a bit when he saw the expression on Sam’s face. It was sincere, almost broken. Dean had seen it in the mirror a thousand times; etched on his own features whenever he thought about his mother and father.

“Oh”, was the only thing Dean’s brain was able to muster and he hated himself instantly for it. “I’m sorry”, Dean added quickly. Sam still looked grim and more serious than Dean had ever seen him. “Yeah, whatever. Water under the bridge, right? Can we just get going? I’ll wait for you outside”, Sam muttered and disappeared. Before the demon vanished into thin air, Dean was sure he saw a glimpse of the ominous crown of thorns, once again adorning the demon’s head. Dean sighed and rubbed his face. Even though he had expected nothing good out of the deal, he felt like everything was going even worse than he could have ever anticipated.

************

Once Dean was fully dressed and had packed all of his belongings, he returned the key of his room to the reception and paid the tab. Then he braced himself and walked to the parking lot where Sam was already waiting for him, leaning against Baby and smoking a cigarette. Dean grimaced. He wasn’t a big fan of people touching his car without permission but he didn’t want to start yet another fight so he said nothing. Apparently he was unable to control his facial expressions as smoothly as his tongue because Sam took one look at his face and pushed himself off the car. “Sorry”, Sam muttered and flicked the cigarette away.

Dean unlocked the doors and threw the duffel into the trunk. He slid into the driver’s seat just to find Sam going through his cassette tape collection. “Could you please not touch those?” Dean sighed tiredly. “You have a serious mullet rock collection going on over here. Can I pick something?” Sam asked, flipping through the cassette tapes until Dean grabbed the box from him. “No, you cannot. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole”, Dean muttered and chose a cassette from the box and pushed it inside the slot. The first beats of Zeppelin’s ‘Custard Pie’ filled the car. Sam nodded contently.

“How do you know I wasn’t gonna suggest that exact same cassette?” Sam asked and smirked. Dean drove the car off the parking lot, looking for a way to the nearest road out of town. “Don’t know, don’t care. It’s my car, I decide what we listen to. Which way are we heading?” Dean asked, eyeing the road signs as he drove. “Head to east, towards St. Louis, I’ll give you more instructions when we get closer to where we’re going”, Sam told him and pointed the way. They stayed silent for a while. “Were you gonna suggest that one?” Dean finally asked. “Fuck no. I was gonna put on AC/DC’s Highway to Hell. Thought that would be fitting, considering the situation”, Sam said and laughed. Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath, counting to ten.

Sam dug out a pack of smokes from his pocket. “No smoking in the car”, Dean said and grabbed the cigarettes from Sam’s hand and threw them out of the window. “Hey! I paid for those!” Sam protested. Dean gave him the stink eye. “Did ya? Really?” he asked sardonically. “Okay, maybe I didn’t pay for them, per se, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t work hard to get them”, Sam said and stared at Dean with murder in his eyes. Dean scoffed. “Yeah, I bet ya did”, he muttered and decided that if he was going to survive the drive without stabbing Sam with the Kurdish knife, he should keep his eyes on the road and his mind on the music, no matter what tricks Sam decided to pull.

They drove in silence for hours. To Dean’s amazement, Sam was actually physically capable of shutting the fuck up for longer than five seconds. Dean changed the music every once in a while but when Styx’s ‘Renegade’ came on, he started unconsciously singing along. “Oh, Mama, I'm in fear for my life from the long arm of the law. Law man has put an end to my running and I'm so far from my home. Oh, Mama I can hear you a-cryin', you're so scared and all alone. Hangman is comin' down from the gallows and I don't have very long”, Dean hummed.

“You have a very nice voice”, Sam whispered, his voice rough as gravel, giving Dean goosebumps. Dean flinched; without the witty remarks every five seconds he had almost forgotten that Sam was even in the car. Dean glanced at Sam and was met with a pair of jet-black eyes. Dean dug out the knife and almost steered off the road. “Dude, what the fuck? Can’t a guy give a compliment without being stabbed around here?” Sam yelled and put his hands up in the air. “Why are your eyes black?” Dean asked, trying his best to keep the car on the road while holding the knife at Sam’s direction.

“Oh”, was the only thing that came out of Sam’s mouth. “Oh? OH?! That’s the only thing you have to say? Spill it, demon!” Dean yelled. “You really have no idea how demon eyes work, do you?” Sam asked, which would have pissed Dean off even more if Sam’s tone of voice wasn’t so freaking sincere; like he was actually interested in knowing the answer. “How the fuck would I know how your eyes work? Not really my habit to hang out with demons, asking about their physiology and shit”, Dean answered, still pointing the knife at Sam. Sam rolled his eyes. Or at least Dean thought he did, it was a bit hard to say when they were solid black.

“It’s feral thing. I can change them black and back as I wish but when there are strong emotions involved, it’s harder. Sometimes impossible. They change on their own and sometimes I don’t even notice it. I honestly had no idea my eyes were black just now. Should’ve guessed though”, Sam explained like he was telling Dean what to buy from the grocery store. Like it was the most normal thing on Earth. “Emotions? Like when you’re angry or something?” Dean asked and lowered the knife a bit. “Angry, hungry, horny”, Sam said and shrugged. “I didn’t know demons even got hungry. But to be honest, I could eat something as well”, Dean said and tugged the knife back into the waistband of his jeans, trusting that Sam wasn’t going to rip his throat out with his teeth once he saw Dean was unarmed.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “What?” Dean snapped. He was getting edgy again. He was hungry and his back was hurting from the hours of sitting still. “It wasn’t hunger that made my eyes go black, you dimwit”, Sam said and stared at Dean with black eyes, his eyebrow raised, looking meaningfully up and down and licking his lips. Dean couldn’t help but blush at the revelation. “Oh”, he said. “Yeah, oh”, Sam said and chuckled. “It’s not my fault really, it’s more of a natural reaction. Here I am, sitting hours on end in a car with a gorgeous creature like yourself with nothing to do, nothing to kill the time with. Not a single led out for all my pent up energy”, Sam said and sighed theatrically.

“Well boohoo, suck it up. Try any funny business with me and lose a hand”, Dean spoke through gritted teeth. “Yeah yeah, I know, you already made it clear that you’re totally frigid”, Sam said and rolled his eyes that were finally hazel again. “Frigid?! Let me tell you one thing, Dean Winchester is the absolute opposite of frigid! I am the un-frigidest person you’ll ever meet!” Dean yelled and almost drove the Impala into the nearest ditch as he turned to stare at Sam with a murderous glare. 

“I don’t think that’s even a real word. So what gives? Why don’t you wanna fuck me then?” Sam asked and tilted his head. He had the smuggest smile on his face Dean had ever seen and he wanted nothing more than to slam Sam’s face against the dashboard. “Um, I don’t know, let me think. Could it be that you’re a fucking demon!? Not only are you the epitome of evil, having sex with you would be like necrophilia. Or worse, rape, if the body you’re possessing is still alive and conscious” Dean practically screamed. He was about to lose it altogether. 

“Epitome of evil? Oh doll face, now you’re just flattering me. And let me assure you, there is no one but me in this body. There has never been anyone but me in this body”, Sam said, staring at Dean intently. “So you what, possessed a braindead person? How mighty nice of you”, Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. “No, you dipshit, this body is mine. It has always been mine. Even when I was a human. This is the body I was born with”, Sam said, almost softly, caressing his own forearm. 

Dean glanced at the demon confusedly. “You can do that? Then why don’t all the demons just do that? Think you might feel a bit more at home in your own skin than in some borrowed meatsuit”, Dean said. Not that he cared. “Not all the demons have enough power to do that”, Sam said nonchalantly. Too nonchalantly. It raised Dean’s suspicions. “Oh yeah? What makes you so special then? Thought you were a mere crossroads demon with some twisted messiah fetish”, Dean said. Sam stayed quiet for so long Dean was sure he wasn’t going to answer at all. “There’s lot of things that make me special. You’ll see, I promise”, Sam finally muttered so quietly Dean could barely hear what he was saying. Dean didn’t ask any more questions. Maybe he thought Sam wouldn’t answer him. Or maybe he was afraid what he would hear if Sam did answer.


	4. CORINTHIANS 15:55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay finally! Hope there's not too much mistakes :) thank you for all the kudos and amazing comments :)

Dean drove as long as he could until finally he had to give up and stop at a diner. He was starving and his bladder felt like it could explode any minute. His right leg was aching from all the sitting still but Dean wouldn’t let it show. Not with Sam around. The demon didn’t need to know all of Dean’s weaknesses. Dean parked the car and got out without saying a word. If Sam wanted, he could follow. Dean would of course prefer if he did not. Unfortunately, his luck wasn’t about to turn just yet. “You sure you wanna eat here? Looks like the type of place where the side dish is Ebola”, Sam said and grimaced. Dean ignored the demon, like he had done for the past two hours. He locked the doors and without looking if Sam followed, he proceeded to walk towards the run-down building.

Dean headed first to the toilet and just to be sure, he chose a stall instead of the urinal. Sam had already once showed some major peeping tom qualities and Dean didn’t want the demon staring at his junk when he was taking a leak. He stood in the stall for a while, rubbing his leg gently. It hadn’t acted up in a while but what better time than when Dean had to be alert 24/7. Just his luck. When Dean was done, he returned to the diner where Sam was already sitting in the window booth, talking to a pretty, brunette waitress. Dean sat opposite of him and Sam’s eyes derailed from the girl to Dean. “Oh, hi, honey. I already ordered but I wasn’t sure what you would fancy, sweetheart”, Sam cooed and smiled sneakily at Dean. 

Dean was fuming on the inside but didn’t want to make a scene in front of the clueless waitress who was smiling at them kindly, her pen resting against the notebook, waiting for Dean’s order. “I’ll have the Pig ’n’ Poke with toast and hash browns. And the biggest, strongest coffee you have, thanks”, Dean said with a moderately friendly smile. ‘And a bullet to the cranium’, he added internally. He wanted nothing more than to strangle Sam. The girl nodded and smiled and the moment she disappeared into the kitchen, Dean turned to stare at Sam with a murderous glare. “What the hell was that all about? ‘Honey’? ‘Sweetheart’? You have a death wish or something?” Dean growled, staring at Sam who was leaning against the backrest, looking as unbothered at Dean’s threats as ever. “Just being a nice person. She was coming onto me, hard. I thought it would be merciful to let her think that the reason I’m turning her down is because we’re together. You might not understand how devastating it can be to a beautiful woman’s ego to be turned down by someone like me”, Sam said and sighed theatrically.

Dean rubbed his temples. He could feel a migraine looming in the distance. “I think if she had just spent five more minutes with you the problem would have solved itself. Worked for me at least”, Dean said without thinking. He hated himself instantly for that, especially when Sam’s face lit up and he leaned over the table. “So you’re saying that you were attracted to me when you first saw me?” Sam cooed. “Really? I thought I was saying you were annoying as fuck straight from the get-go”, Dean muttered, staring out the window like the dusty parking lot had something interesting to offer. “See, this is the problem with you. Why do you keep lying to yourself and punishing us both when you could just admit you want to ravage me all the ways imaginable and we could make this deal more pleasurable for the both of us?” Sam sighed, staring at Dean intently. Even though Dean didn’t turn to meet Sam’s gaze, he could still feel it burning on his skin. 

Sam sighed. “Fine, suit yourself. Just trying to make your life easier”, Sam said and Dean could feel the demon rolling his eyes. “All work and no play makes Dean a very dull boy. Pretty, but dull”, Sam said, tilting his head and smiling at Dean. Dean frowned. “Talking about work, what’s your plan? So we gonna go and see some witch? How’s that gonna help us?” Dean asked, finally turning his head to face Sam. “She’s very old, very powerful. Almost impossible to find. Unless you know where to look, of course. I have a book. The book has a spell. She’s gonna do the spell for us. The spell’s gonna lead us to Gremory”, Sam explained and Dean hated the tone of his voice. It was patronizing. Like Dean was stupid and had to have things dumb-down for him. He felt an unpleasant sting in his chest when a small voice in the back of his head whispered: ‘Just the way your daddy used to talk to you.’

“Why can’t you just do the spell? Or why can’t I do it? I’ve done locating spells before, how hard can it be?” Dean asked. Sam gave him his bitchiest expression. For a demon he was rather expressive. Most demons Dean had met were nowhere near as expressive. It was like they didn’t know how to convey human emotions through facial expressions. “Pretty hard unless you can understand a language that has been dead about 3,000 years or so. That’s why we need this exact witch. She’s the only person I know who can still read the language. It’s the most powerful locating spell, powerful enough that Gremory’s wards will come crumbling down”, Sam said. He opened his mouth to say something else but the waitress arrived with their food and Sam just smiled seductively at the girl and winked. The girl blushed and as she stared at Sam, she accidentally pushed the glass of water off the table and straight into Dean’s lap. She squealed and turned bright crimson. “Oh god, I’m so sorry! I’m such a klutz!” she apologized feverishly, trying to hand Dean some napkins. Dean sighed. Just his luck. “It’s okay, don’t worry, it’s just water. Lucky for you, I’m not made of sugar so I don’t melt”, Dean sighed and gave her an assuring smile. 

The girl dried the water off the table and went to get Dean a new glass, still apologizing. When she had finally laid a new glass on the table and disappeared back into the kitchen, Dean turned to eye Sam with a murderous glare. Sam was eating his breakfast and seemed undisturbed by all the ruckus. “Thanks a lot”, Dean muttered. That caught Sam’s attention. “What? Oh! That was my fault as well? Yes, because I’m the master of all the klutz waitresses in the universe. It’s a burden but someone’s gotta bear it”, Sam sneered and squinted his eyes. Dean could see he was actually getting angry. Good.

“If you hadn’t flirted with her, she would have kept her eyes on the table and my lap wouldn’t be wet”, Dean muttered, cutting into his Pig’n’Poke angrily, utensils screeching against the plate. “Oh baby, don’t worry, I wasn’t that into her to begin with. I’ll make it up to you later. Bet I can make you much more wet without spilling any drinks”, Sam murmured, sucking a mayo-covered finger into his mouth, licking it with his tongue, making lewd slurping sounds that went straight to Dean’s neglected cock. Dean turned bright crimson, giving away his train of thought immediately. Sam stopped eating altogether, his eyes lighting up, a small smile spreading over his lips.

“You’re hard. You liked it when I licked my finger”, Sam whispered. His voice was dark and rough, making a cold shiver run down Dean’s spine. Dean on the other hand tried to focus on the food on his plate. “Well maybe I wouldn’t be this horny if someone hadn’t interrupted me this morning when I was trying to take care of the problem”, Dean said, not trying to deny his hardness. Sam seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to Dean’s inner thoughts. “Let me take care of it for you. I’ll be gentle in case you’re still a virgin”, Sam said, sucking two fingers into his mouth suggestively. Dean’s eyes followed the movement unwillingly.

“Has anyone ever told you what a pain in the ass you are?” Dean sighed, not bothering to answer Sam’s degrading suggestion. “No, not really. Usually people end up with a pain in the ass when they spent time with me though. But like I said, I would be gentle with you. Unless you like it rough”, Sam murmured, leaning his elbows against the table, staring Dean with solid-black eyes. “Put those away! We’re in public!” Dean hissed angrily, looking around if anyone had noticed. Fortunately, besides the two of them the diner was empty.

“Chill. There’s literally nobody here. Besides, like I said. It’s involuntary sometimes. I can’t help it, I’m horny and you’re really hot. Tell me, what was it that you took from the nightstand drawer when you were packing?” Sam asked, leaning closer to Dean, staring at the hunter with his black eyes that were surprisingly expressive. Dean choked on his bacon and started coughing. Sam’s smile widened. “It was something dirty, wasn’t it? Something you didn’t want me to see”, Sam whispered, biting his lower lip. 

“Really? You sure it wasn’t something to kill you with when you push me over the fucking edge and I finally snap?” Dean growled under his breath, shoving his mouth full of food. The quicker he was done the better. He could still feel is cheeks burn crimson with embarrassment. He had been really careful emptying the nightstand. He hadn’t thought that Sam had seen it. But there was no way in hell he was telling Sam what it was. He would rather die.

“Pffh, pleeeease, you have trunk full of stuff for killing me. This was something else. But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna. I’ll figure it out later on. Hey, have I told you that you look absolutely adorable when you blush? It makes your freckles really pop. I love your freckles, Dean”, Sam whispered, sliding his tongue over his bottom lip slowly. Dean felt uneasy. Sam’s stare was burning holes in his head. And the way he said Dean’s name made shivers run down the hunter’s spine and made his skin turn into goosebumps.  


“You like that. You like it when I say your name. When I call you Dean instead of pretty or doll face”, Sam whispered huskily, tilting his head and staring at Dean with a devious smile. Dean got up abruptly, almost knocking the plates off the table. “I’m ready, I’ll wait for you in the car”, Dean said and threw a couple of bills on the table. Before Sam had time to say anything, Dean was out the door, practically running to the car and away from Sam and his unnerving presence. 

**********

They drove for another eight hours before Dean’s eyes started to fall shut. It was already night and Dean was tired but he tried to keep himself going with the power of his will and the double espresso in his hand. A sudden movement and Sam’s yell snapped him back to reality. “Fuck, Dean! Trying to get us killed? If you’re that tired let me drive. You can sleep in the back”, Sam said. He had slid over the seat when Dean’s eyes had closed and the car had started to swerve towards the ditch. Sam’s hand was on top of Dean’s as he was holding the steering wheel steady and Dean shook it away angrily. He didn’t like the feel of Sam’s leg brushing against his right thigh either.

“No fucking way. No one drives Baby but me. I’ll sleep for a while and we’ll continue”, Dean said and yawned. He was dead tired. He drove for a couple of miles until he saw a motel sign and turned left. Dean pulled to a stop to a surprisingly full motel parking lot. They got out and Sam immediately lit up a cigarette. He had bought a new pack when they had stopped for gas but Dean hadn’t let Sam smoke in the car. Sam leaned against the car and stared at Dean when he dug out the duffel from the trunk. Dean tried his best not to look at Sam. The demon had switched from annoying Dean to death with his words to a silent stare. Dean would have never believed that he could actually miss Sam’s annoying remarks every five seconds but the stare Sam was giving him was much more unnerving. 

“Since I’m guessing you’re gonna hang around anyways, mind at least pitching in some cash to pay for the room?” Dean said even though he was sure Sam was not going to do such a thing. To his surprise Sam dug out a thick wad of money from his back pocket and tossed it to Dean who caught it clumsily. “Take the honeymoon suite, doll face”, Sam cooed and laughed like a maniac. Dean rolled his eyes and disappeared into the motel reception.

After a while Dean stormed out the reception like the Tasmanian devil. Sam lifted an eyebrow as Dean strode past him without saying a word, practically fuming. Sam tossed his cigarette away and followed silently. Dean unlocked the last door at the end of building and walked in, slamming the door shut in front of Sam’s face. Not that it stopped Sam, he teleported into the room, just to have angry Dean immediately slam him against the door. “No! You’re not staying here. Go away, leave me alone!” Dean yelled, pushing Sam angrily against the door. Sam didn’t say anything, just frowned.

Dean let go of Sam’s shirt and turned around. He dug out a bottle of Jack from his duffel and slumped down on the edge of the bed, opening the cap and taking a huge swig. Sam stepped away from the door and further into the room. One look at the bed and he knew what had been the last straw that broke the camel’s back, making Dean take his anger out on Sam. “Guess they were out of queens, huh?” Sam said and sat down on the kitchen chair. The room had only one bed, huge king size bed on which Dean was currently sitting on. Dean gave him a stare that promised death if Sam would make even one joke about sharing a bed with Dean.

“Stop acting like such a child. I’ll stay someplace else, it’s not a big deal, Dean”, Sam sighed and Dean lifted his bloodshot eyes to meet Sam’s. Dean didn’t say anything, just stared at Sam with anger and confusion. Sam rolled his eyes. This was probably his cue to leave. “I’ll come and wake you up. I’m gonna see if I can find something useful for us in the meanwhile. Sleep tight, Dean”, Sam said and in a blink of an eye Dean was alone in the rundown motel room.


	5. PART ONE: 1 CORINTHIANS 10:13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is short as fuck but not to worry, it's just the first part of chapter five. Part two is unfortunately still a work in progress, had to re-edit it and make some changes so the story is going the way I want it to. Thank you for the comments and kudos, they're all very much appreciated :)
> 
> I also have a Pinterest board for this fic if you're interested, you can find it in here: https://fi.pinterest.com/miakaass/somewhere-between-the-crossroads-and-the-righteous/

The next time Dean stirred awake, the sun was already up. Dean blinked rapidly for a few times. That fucking demon had let him sleep through the whole night and most of the morning, wasting precious time. Time they should have spent on the road, not snoozing away like the fucking Sleeping Beauty. Dean yawned and rubbed his eyes. ‘Well, too late to whine now, just gotta get up and get going’, Dean thought. 

“Finally, been dying for you to wake up. I was thinking, since you don’t let me fuck you and since we both know about your little, well, actually not so little, morning problem, maybe we can compromise and you’ll let me fuck you with this? Don’t understand why you wanted to hide it from me in the first place. Believe me, this is the most thrilling thing I’ve learned about you so far,” Sam’s voice said from the end of the bed, making Dean rub his eyes and look at the demon. All of his blood rushed to his face, making his cheeks burn crimson.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Are demons unable to grasp even the simplest concept of privacy?” Dean yelled and sat up abruptly. Sam was sitting in the armchair which he had dragged to the end of the bed, his eyes black, the crown of thorns on full display and Dean’s black dildo in his hand. He had clearly gone through Dean’s duffel bag while Dean had slept, that nosy fuck. Dean didn’t think twice, he dug out the gun he always kept under his pillow and without saying a word, he shot Sam in the chest. Sam looked absolutely offended, staring at the hole in his chest, his mouth hanging open. “How dare you!” Sam growled and before Dean had time to realize what had happened, the gun was knocked from his hand and Sam was on top of him with Dean’s arms pinned over the hunter’s head.

“You shot me”, Sam growled and for the first time Dean was actually afraid of the demon. Sam’s hair was messy and even from his black eyes Dean could read the undiluted anger that coiled inside the demon. “You went through my stuff!” Dean yelled back. Sam huffed in anger. Then he lowered himself down, so close his face was almost touching Dean’s. “Do. Not. Ever. Shoot. Me. Again!” Sam growled, the voice coming deep from his throat. “Or what?” Dean spat at him. Before he had time to realize what had happened, Sam’s lips were on his, rough and demanding. 

Dean struggled, he tried to get away but Sam was too strong, Dean couldn’t move. And it didn’t help the situation that Sam was grinding down on Dean, his hard on pressing tightly against Dean’s cock that was trapped between them. “Open your mouth”, Sam growled so menacingly that even though Dean sure as hell wasn’t going to do what Sam told him, the next thing he knew was that his mouth opened willingly to let Sam’s tongue in. Sam’s tongue was soft, velvet soft but his motions were rough. He was claiming Dean’s mouth, pushing his tongue against Dean’s while grinding his hips against Dean’s strained cock. And no matter how much Dean resisted, he really did, he grew hard inside his sweatpants. 

Sam parted their lips, a thin rope of saliva still connecting their mouths. “Fuck you, Dean Winchester. Fuck you”, Sam whispered against Dean’s lips. Dean was now more angry than afraid and painfully hard inside his boxers. “Funny, I thought that was exactly what you’ve been telling you want to do to me for the past couple of days”, Dean growled, speaking through gritted teeth. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let Sam’s tongue back into his mouth. No matter how much Dean’s cock seemed to appreciate it. “Yeah, well maybe I changed my mind. After all, I’m not sure a prude like you could handle someone like me”, Sam whispered and his smug, arrogant smile made Dean want to strangle him. He struggled against Sam’s iron-tight grip but it was no use. Sam was bigger than him and on top of everything, he was a demon. There was no way Dean was able to match him in strength. 

“Newsflash, just because someone doesn’t wanna fuck you, doesn’t mean they’re a prude”, Dean hissed. Sam stared at him with murder in his eyes until a smile crept on his lips. “Oh? Is that so?” Sam practically cooed, changing from murderous to seductive so fast Dean felt dizzy. Sam grinded down, hard, to prove his point that Dean not wanting him was absolute BS. Dean bit on his lip, biting back a moan. It had been a long time since he had had such an intimate, full-body contact with someone. He wasn’t a prude like Sam had accused him of but Dean had to admit, it had been a long time since he had gotten something else than a quick handjob behind some dive bar. And to top everything off, Dean had to admit Sam was very attractive. The only problem was that Dean didn’t want to be attracted to Sam. Unfortunately, his body was starting to betray him.

Sam held him down, his face so close to Dean’s he could feel the demon’s hot breath over his lips. Sam grinded against him, his erection rubbing deliciously against Dean’s equally hard cock. Dean could feel himself trembling, he had bit back his moans so far but when Sam rutted against him hard, a soft whimper escaped from Dean’s lips. “Sweet Jesus, Dean. Do that again”, Sam’s voice was rough against his lips. Dean’s eyes shot open, expecting to meet Sam’s black, demon eyes but instead he was met with soft hazel. “I thought you said you couldn’t change your eyes to normal when you were aroused”, Dean said, the first thing that came to his mind and even through the lust-filled haze he wanted to kick himself. Sam froze. “They’re hazel”, Dean added. He should have really just shut the fuck up already.

Sam got up so fast Dean almost rolled off the bed. Sam took a quick look at the mirror on the wall above the bed. The hunter wasn’t lying; his eyes were hazel. “Don’t ever shoot me again or that’ll be the last thing you do”, Sam muttered as a last threat before he was gone again, leaving panting and trembling Dean on the bed, wondering what the fuck had just happened.

Sam stood in the parking lot, staring at his reflection from the Impala’s window. His eyes were their soft, hazel color even though Sam was still throbbing hard inside his jeans. Sam tried to turn his eyes black and hide the crown of thorns on top of his head. Slowly, painfully slowly his eyes filled with black smoke and the crown disappeared. Sam stared at his reflection and swallowed hard. He should not let his guard down around the hunter.

**********

Dean exited the motel room 20 minutes later, his hair messy and his shirt disheveled, smelling of sex. Sam’s eyes followed the hunter as he walked to the reception to return the key and then to the Impala. Dean didn’t meet Sam’s eyes, he just unlocked the doors, threw the duffel into the trunk and slid into the driver’s seat. Sam followed suit without saying a word.

They drove for hours in silence, Dean blasting the music extra loud, probably just to annoy Sam. When five hours had passed, Sam turned off the radio. He was expecting to hear a protest from Dean, but the hunter said nothing, he didn’t even look at Sam. “I’m sorry”, Sam finally said. Dean turned to him, eyeing him suspiciously. “What?” Dean said. “I’m sorry, alright! I’m sorry I went through your stuff. I’m sorry I molested you. I shouldn’t have. It won’t happen again”, Sam said, not looking at Dean even though he saw Dean eyeing at him. “You didn’t molest me”, Dean finally replied. Sam’s eyes turned to Dean, glaring at him.

“Really? That’s the only thing you have to say after I poured my heart out for you?” Sam huffed. “Fine, fine! Sorry I shot you. There. Better?” Dean almost yelled, flailing his arms in frustration. “Yeah. Just don’t do it again”, Sam muttered. They both fell silent for a while. “So did you use the dildo after I left?” Sam asked. The car suddenly swerved to the oncoming lane. “I take that as a yes”, Sam chuckled.


	6. PART TWO: ROMANS 8: 38-39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I wanna apologize that this has taken so long. Summer was not a relaxing time for me because of work and school and after the summer ended, I moved to the other side of Europe, to Budapest. When I came here I had no apartment to stay in and I don't speak Hungarian so everything was super hectic and stressful. But fortunately now I have an apartment and a working internet connection here and I'm actually settled in well enough to get some writing done so hopefully the updates will be more regular from now on :) promises promises. Anyways, I wanna thank everyone who was left kudos and lovely comments and everything, they've been a life saver when I've had no motivation to write, so thank you everyone so much! I'm not sure if I already told you guys that there is a Pinterest board for this story, you can find it here: https://fi.pinterest.com/miakaass/somewhere-between-the-crossroads-and-the-righteous/
> 
> As always the plentiful mistakes are all mine and this is not beta-read but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless :) let me know what you think!
> 
> If any of my readers live in Budapest, hit me up, let's get some beers and talk about wincest :)

Sam and Dean drove hours in silence. Dean was still feeling a bit uneasy about the fact that Sam knew what the hunter kept hidden in his duffel but after dwelling in it for a while Dean decided to push it to the furthest corner of his mind. He could feel ashamed of it or whatever later on, now they had more pressing matters to attend to. Especially when Sam suddenly ordered Dean to turn to the small dirt road on their left. Dean sat up. He knew they were close to wherever they were headed. He could feel even Sam getting more serious, focused on the task at hand instead of teasing Dean and joking.

“She’s near. I can feel her. Drive slow, I’ll tell you when to stop”, Sam ordered. Dean glanced at Sam. There was something different about the demon. Sam was alert and serious, a small frown on his forehead showing that he was actually concentrating. Dean was glad to see Sam was taking their mission seriously. He needed someone who would be an actual use when push came to shove. “Okay park here. We’ll continue by foot”, Sam said and Dean did as he was told. There was something authoritarian in Sam’s voice and if Dean knew something it was how to take orders. His dad had trained him to be a soldier, to obey, not to ask questions. The last part had been the part Dean had always struggled with though.

Dean parked the Impala and they got out. Sam stood there for a while, looking around like he was contemplating which direction they should go. “What are you doing?” Dean asked but Sam shushed him with a wave of his hand. After a moment of silence Sam finally started walking towards the forest. “This way”, Sam simply stated. “How do you know?” Dean asked as pesky as ever. Dean expected Sam to shush him again and not to ask stupid questions, that’s what Dean’s father had always done, but instead Sam looked like he was thinking what to say.

“It’s hard to explain if you’re not a demon or some other supernatural creature. I can sense the witch’s life energy. There’s a certain aura she has. Every living creature has an individual aura that demons can sense. Witches’ auras are usually quite hard to detect though because of the magic. They’re good at hiding their presence. But I know this witch, I can sense her even through the barriers she has put up. No living creature can hide their aura entirely and auras are like fingerprints, unique to their holder”, Sam explained. Dean was slightly taken aback. He had not expected such a lengthy explanation but it got him thinking.

“So I have an aura as well?” Dean asked. Sam’s mouth twitched in a way Dean couldn’t identify. “Yes, of course. Every living creature has an aura. You’re no exception”, Sam answered. He had dug out his pack of smokes and put one cigarette between his lips. With a flick of his finger the end of the cigarette lit up. “What does it look like? My aura, I mean”, Dean asked intrigued. Now he was sure there was a fast smile on Sam’s lips before the demon was able to control his facial expression. “Shiny. I mean really bright. Baby blue-ish but strong. If I were to stand in a room with hundreds of people, I could find you with my eyes closed. That’s how bright and strong your aura is”, Sam said, looking strictly ahead, like he was avoiding looking at Dean. Dean was once again taken aback by Sam’s words. The first feeling that surfaced after what Sam said was proudness, like Dean was pleased about what Sam had said. He suppressed that emotion immediately. It was a stupid, childish thing to feel, especially because of something someone like Sam had said.

“It’s really pretty”, Sam said which snapped Dean back to reality. “What?” he asked perplexed. “Your aura. It’s really pretty. That’s why I called you pretty when I first met you”, Sam said, still not looking at Dean, his voice oddly strained. Dean didn’t know what to say. Sam had never spoken to him so… softly. “That and your round, well-formed ass of course”, Sam added with a wicked grin. Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. Leave it to Sam to ruin an almost beautiful moment.

“We’re here”, Sam suddenly said, stopping dead in his tracks and throwing his half-smoked cigarette away. Dean looked around. They were standing in a small opening in the woods but otherwise there was nothing there. “We’re where, exactly?” Dean asked but he was startled by Sam yelling at the top of his lungs: “Rowena, you old hag, show yourself before I huff and puff and tear your house to bits!” Dean stared in awe as right before his eyes, where there had been nothing, a small, cabin built out of rocks and wood started to form, appearing out of thin air. Dean was practically holding his breath as the door creaked and opened and a petite, red-headed woman in a black evening gown walked out, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

“I can hear very well without all the shouting and ruckus. What do you want, giant?” the woman said with a thick, Scottish accent, glaring at Sam angrily. “As welcoming as ever, I see. Aren’t you gonna invite us in for a cup of tea before the third degree interrogation?” Sam cooed, smiling almost menacingly, his eyes filled with promises of what would happen if the witch didn’t oblige. The witch glared at Sam, clearly contemplating the consequences of saying no. “Alright, come on in, you lot. Hurry now, before the magic wears off”, the witch said, rolling her eyes but stepping aside so Sam could walk into the cabin. Dean followed hesitantly after him.

Once inside, Dean was surprised once again. The cabin wasn’t actually a cabin, it was a huge house, decorated with Persian carpets and golden pillars. Dean stared in awe as they walked through the house, following the witch who led them to a huge dining room. Sam sat down, lifting his feet to the table like he had just come home after a long day at the office. Dean sat at the seat next to him, still a bit wary of his surroundings. The witch had been eyeing Sam menacingly so far, but now her eyes turned to Dean like it was the first time she realized there was actually someone else in the room besides Sam and herself.

“Who’s your wee friend?” the witch asked, smiling at Dean even though there was something a bit off about the expression. “None of your business. Let’s cut to the chase. I need a spell”, Sam said, pulling his feet off the table and sitting up, staring at the witch whose eyes were still fixed on Dean. She acted like she hadn’t even heard what Sam had said, her eyes suddenly widening before glaring angrily at Sam. “Hunter! You brought a hunter into my house!” she yelled and before Sam or Dean had time to say or do anything, Dean felt himself being thrown against the nearest wall by an invisible force.

“Fucking bitch!” Dean could hear Sam yelling. Dean’s eyes had fallen shut from the pain of hitting his head against the brick wall. He could feel the blood throbbing in the back of his head and the edges of his vision were pulsating with hot, white pain. Dean felt bile rising to his throat, desperate to keep the contents of his stomach down. Suddenly, the invisible force that was holding him up released itself and Dean fell face first to the floor. He didn’t have time to get up before strong, gentle hand was placed on his back and another one was lifting his chin.

“Dean? You okay?” Dean heard Sam’s voice asking from the distance. A hand was pressed against his cheek and Dean leaned against it involuntarily. “ ‘m fine”, he mumbled barely coherently. “Shit, your head’s bleeding. See what you did, bitch? You gonna pay for this”, Sam muttered angrily. Dean’s vision started to clarify again and he could see the witch was tied to a chair with thick ropes and there was a small cut on her forehead. She didn’t look happy but her expression was nothing compared to the anger shadowing Sam’s features.

“Here, I’ll help you”, Sam said when he saw Dean was trying to get up. Dean felt his stomach turn as he stood up and his knees buckled immediately. “Hey! Hey, I gotcha. Take it easy”, Sam said as his strong arms curled around Dean to keep him up. Dean clung onto Sam desperately so he wouldn’t fall to the floor. His legs were jelly and his right leg was acting up again like it sometimes did under stress. Sam practically carried him to the couch in the corridor.

“You just sit tight, okay? I’ll be quick and then we can leave. I’ll be right back. Holla if you need me”, Sam said and with a last assuring squeeze on Dean’s shoulder he was gone. Dean tried to focus his mind and eyesight but it was no use, everything was a blur of throbbing, sharp pain. Dean had had concussions before and this seemed like a severe one. Dean tried to keep an upright position but his head started lolling to the side on its own. He knew he shouldn’t lose consciousness but the pain was just too much for his system so it decided to shut down.

“Dean, Dean!” a voice yelled from a distance and Dean could feel someone shaking him. “Stop yelling”, Dean tried to say but he only managed to mutter some incoherent mumbo-jumbo. “Come on, let’s get you to the car. I got the spell translated and we need to get you to a hospital”, Sam said, forcing Dean to his feet and when Dean’s knees buckled again, Sam took a tight grip of him and lifted Dean to his arms bridal style. “No”, Dean whined. “Stop bitching, I’m gonna just carry you to the car, that’s all”, Sam said, walking out the front door and into the woods again. The fresh air seemed to clear Dean’s mind a bit.

“I meant no hospitals. I don’t have an insurance and some of my aliases are wanted by the police”, Dean muttered, pressing his temple against Sam’s solid chest, trying to stop his head from lolling to the side. “Well what the fuck am I supposed to do then? I’m not a doctor, hell, I can’t even remember how human anatomy works. Besides the naughty stuff of course”, Sam complained. “Just take me to a motel, I need some rest. And if I fall asleep, you need to wake me up every two hours to check on me. It’s just a concussion, I’ve had them before. I’ll be fine”, Dean muttered, closing his eyes and trying to make himself ignore the fact that Sam was carrying him like a blushing bride. They had reached the car and Sam opened the passenger side door, maneuvering Dean in. Then he walked to the driver’s side in long strides and slid in.

Dean fought against the dark spots in his vision but it was a losing battle and within minutes the darkness devoured him. The next thing he knew was that someone was manhandling him. Dean’s hunter instinct kicked in immediately and he tried to hit the person maneuvering him into an upright position. “Stop hitting me, Dean! Jesus, this is why I never try to help anyone. No good deed and all that crap”, Sam sighed and wrapped his arm around Dean’s back, lifting him to his wobbling feet. 

“I already got us a room while you were out. Can you walk? Or do I need to carry you again?” Sam asked, his voice strained with controlled exhaustion and anger. Dean blinked slowly for a couple of times, trying to make something out of the surroundings. They were at a motel parking lot and it was dark, the sun had already set. Dean explored the signals his body was giving him. Sure, he still had a throbbing headache but his feet seemed to be working better than before. “I’m fine, I can walk by myself”, Dean muttered, trying to take a step away from Sam and almost tumbling over. “Yeah, sure you can”, Sam sighed. 

Sam wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist and helped him walk to the motel door that was apparently theirs. Then the demon maneuvered the door open before helping Dean in, walking the hunter to the edge of the bed and letting him slump down on it. Dean laid down and sighed contently as his throbbing temple hit the pillow. It felt good to be lying down. “I’ll get your stuff from the car”, Sam said and with that he had disappeared. Dean sighed again and closed his eyes, the darkness calling to him again, luring him in. But Dean knew he should get some painkillers from his bag first so he forced his eyes open.

Dean observed lazily as Sam returned, locking the door behind him and throwing the duffel on the kitchen table. The demon glanced at Dean, their eyes meeting briefly before he opened the bag and started digging through it. Dean allowed his eyes to fall shut, waiting for Sam to find the painkillers. After a while the edge of the bed tipped and Sam’s voice commanded ‘move’. Dean tried to move to the other side of the bed but his legs were heavy like lead and they didn’t want to obey him. 

Dean heard Sam sigh and move on the bed. The next thing Dean felt was something pulling on his shoes. “Hey”, Dean tried to protest weakly but the pulling continued. Dean opened his eyes and saw Sam trying to strip the hunter of his shoes. ‘Just the shoes. That’s fine. I’ll sleep better without them’, Dean thought to himself, his mind offering helpful images what Dean would have liked Sam to strip him of. Once Dean felt his shoes were off, the hands came to lay on Dean’s stomach and flanks and that made him uneasy even in his concussion-induced coma state. “Hey! No taking advantage of the patients!” Dean protested, opening his eyes and glaring at Sam menacingly, even though he ended looking more cross-eyed that threatening. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’ll just take your jacket off”, Sam muttered, gritting his teeth. Demons weren’t patient and they sure as hell weren’t nurturing but there Sam was, trying his best to take care of the whiny, injured hunter.

“Take one of these before I patch you up”, Sam said, holding the bottle of painkillers out for Dean. Dean rolled his eyes the best he could (which was not a smart move since it sent blinding shots of pain through his skull) and took the bottle, taking out three pills and swallowing them. He took the glass of water Sam was offering him and drank it in one go. “The bottle said one pill”, Sam protested. “Oh shut up, I’ve been doing this since I was nine, I think I know how many to take”, Dean said, resting his head against the pillow again, closing his eyes with a content sigh.

“You need to turn on your side”, Sam complained. “Why?” Dean asked without opening his eyes. The painkillers worked fast and taking triple the recommended dose meant they worked like the healing hands of a hot nurse, making Dean feel happy and drowsy. “I need to take care of that wound on your head. It’s bleeding all over the pillow”, Sam said. “Just leave it. Wake me up if I’m about to bleed to death”, Dean sighed, his insides feeling like a mushy, soft pile of pillows and the pain in his head subsiding. 

“Shut up, Dean. I’m trying to be nice, stop being such a jerk”, Sam said, pressing something cold against the back of Dean’s head. It smarted his wound a bit but Dean didn’t care. The painkillers were working their magic, making him feel good for the first time in a long time. Really good, actually. Almost happy. “Whatever. Stop being such a bitch”, Dean muttered against the pillow, letting Sam tend his wound. 

Sam’s other hand was laid on the bed as he disinfected the wound. It accidentally brushed against Dean’s and in his happy haze Dean didn’t deny himself how good it felt to feel Sam’s soft, warm skin against his. So, Dean did something he would have never done sober and laid his hand on top of Sam’s, squeezing it slightly and holding it in his grip. “Thank you for taking care of me”, Dean murmured against the pillow, his words slurred and thick but the voice in the back of his head telling him how good everything felt. Sam’s hand in his, warm and strong, saying nice things to Sam, having Sam near. Dean felt an overwhelming need to feel Sam even closer, to have Sam’s strong arms around himself and to be able to cuddle against Sam’s broad chest as Sam rubbed his back gently. Those were the desires Dean sometimes had, having someone close, cuddling up against them. To feel safe, feel protected. ‘Sam’s so big and strong, he can protect me from all the monsters’, Dean thought to himself and the thought alone made him smile, made him feel giddy and childishly happy on the inside.

Totally lost in his thoughts, Dean didn’t even notice Sam was already done tending his wound and was now just sitting on the edge of the bed, watching how Dean had taken his hand and drawn it against his chest, resting his cheek against it and looking more content than Sam had ever seen him. Sam felt perplexed, he felt uneasy about the emotions coursing through his body. And driven by those emotions and knowing that Dean would probably remember nothing of it the next day, Sam reached out his free hand and petted Dean’s hair gently. Sam swallowed hard at the reaction the gentle touch coaxed out of Dean; the hunter let out a content, throaty moan and his lips brushed against Sam’s other hand, the hand that Dean was still holding possessively. 

“What the fuck am I gonna do with you?” Sam said to nobody particular, sighing deeply, still petting Dean’s hair, then letting the back of his hand caress Dean’s cheek, enjoying the feel of the rough stubble that was framing the hunter’s beautiful face. Sam tried his best not to pay attention to the colors pulsing hard and heavy in the hunter’s aura. Deep, almost magenta-colored pink was painting Dean’s life energy all-over. Sam knew what that color meant and he was trying to tell himself it was the painkillers coursing through the hunter’s body that made him feel that way, that Dean was just filled up with endorphins. It must’ve been the painkillers and not Sam’s presence that caused the beautiful pink shades in the hunter’s aura, indicating feelings of affection and, well, love.

Sam kept petting Dean’s cheek absent-mindedly. Dean was fast asleep, totally dead to the world and it startled Sam to hear Dean’s mouth, that was pressed against the demon’s hand, speak softly. “Sam”, Dean sighed sleepily. Sam swallowed hard, drawing his both hands away, rubbing his face roughly. Dean rolled to his back, his hands moving like he was looking for something, a small frown appearing on his forehead. “Sam”, Dean whimpered again, this time with a hue of worry in his voice. 

Sam didn’t know what he was doing, he wasn’t thinking straight. Hell, he wasn’t thinking at all as he leaned forward, cupping Dean’s face gently with his hand and pressing a soft kiss on the hunter’s lips. As Sam drew back and observed Dean’s face, the hunter opened his eyes sleepily, staring half-lid at Sam. At that moment, Sam felt something inside himself, like someone had stabbed him in the chest, a throbbing pain where his heart was. Dean’s pupils were wide and his eyes were watery, shining in the dim light of the room, thick eyelashes clumped together because of the tears. Sam felt panic rise inside himself staring into Dean’s eyes but he couldn’t turn away, he had to keep staring at the most mesmerizing, most beautiful pair of eyes Sam had ever seen. Dean’s eyes were his weakness, they always showed how the hunter was really feeling even when he tried to hide it. Sam didn’t need to look at Dean’s aura to see it was almost completely covered in different shades of pink. He already saw it in Dean’s eyes.

“Try to get some sleep. I’ll wake you up in couple of hours”, Sam whispered, feeling his own breath ghost over Dean’s lips. With one last lingering touch of Dean’s lips against his, Sam got up and disappeared.


	7. 2 CORINTHIANS 5:7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, apologies are in order. I'm sorry I went on a hiatus without informing you guys. I got back to Finland at the end of last year and the spring has been crazy, depressing and all sorts of shitty. But here I am, you're not getting rid of me that easy! Some people have asked me if I'm gonna finish this and some other fics I'm working on and I want to assure you that even if you don't hear from me for a half a year and it seems like I've vanished from the face of the earth, I will come back with a new chapter. This fic is my baby and I will finish it no matter what and I actually have stuff planned for it that I'm really excited about! I try to be more regular but life gets in the way and I'm really critical about my writing, not just the inevitable spelling errors but also the plot and character development. I go through every chapter a million times but usually I'm still not 100% satisfied with the end result. The new seasons of Supernatural have not helped that much but I got an energy boost from the ending of season 13 and can't wait for season 14!
> 
> I wanna give and extra thank you for everyone who has left kudos and inspiring comments, you guys have no idea what they mean to me and how much they help with my writer's block, thank you so much <3
> 
> Anyway, time for me to stop blabbering like a fool. Here's the new chapter, I hope you enjoy it! Spelling and fact errors are mine and mine alone, not beta read and English is still a foreign language to me.
> 
> Here's the link to the pinterest board for this fic if you're interested:  
> https://fi.pinterest.com/miakaass/somewhere-between-the-crossroads-and-the-righteous/

The next time Dean woke up, the sun was already up. He blinked a couple of times, trying to think what had happened. There was a mild throbbing at the back of his head and his first thought was that Sam had drugged him or beat the ever-living shit out of him or something. Then a faint memory of the witch and Sam helping him to the car came to his mind. The rest of the night was a total blur, he had no recollection of what had happened after he had gotten into the car. 

Dean sat up slowly, testing if he felt the need to throw up or if he felt faint but besides the slight throbbing in his head, he felt quite fine. Dean lifted his hand to feel the back of his head and to his surprise, he found a large band-aid taped over the wound he no doubt had at the back of his head. Dean felt confused. Had Sam patched him up?  


“Oh, you’re up. Good. I brought you breakfast”, a voice snapped Dean out of his thoughts. Sam slammed the door shut and walked to the bed, sitting on the edge of it, way too close to Dean’s comfort. Sam laid the stuff he was carrying on the bed in front of Dean and before Dean knew what had happened, Sam had reached to touch the injured side of Dean’s head. Dean withdrew, almost hitting his head to the backboard of the bed, startled by Sam’s almost gentle caress.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dean snapped, his voice accusing as he tried to inch away from Sam who was way too close for comfort. “Checking your wound? Jeez, Dean, way to show appreciation to your knight in shining armor. In case you’re suffering from memory loss, let me tell you that you were saved from the evil witch’s den by no other than yours truly”, Sam said, closing his eyes and patting his own chest like he had done something truly heroic. Dean scoffed, causing Sam to open his eyes.

“What, you don’t believe me? Who do you think patched you up? The tooth fairy?” Sam snarled, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. “Well, you were also the one who dragged me into the ‘evil witch’s den’ in the first place so excuse me if I’m not ready to hand you the Medal of Honor just yet”, Dean said, his eyes fixing on the small paper bag Sam had laid on the covers. “What’s in the bag?” Dean asked, his nose telling him it was something delicious. Sam was still glaring at him, looking almost offended.

“Breakfast for some ungrateful piece of shit who clearly doesn’t know how to appreciate all my effort”, Sam answered. Dean took the bag and opened it, his mouth salivating instantly as he opened the small cardboard box inside. There was a huge slice of the most delicious-looking pie Dean had ever seen. Dean scooped some of the jam with his finger and pushed the finger into his mouth, moaning at the sensations coursing through his body, a cacophony of taste bursting in his mouth. As Dean dig into the pie like he had been starved for weeks, he ignored the black eyes staring at him with keen interest. He had almost gotten used to Sam being a weird pervert most of the time. Almost.

When Dean had finished the pie and was licking his lips to get the rest of it into his mouth, Sam couldn’t resist the urge to reach his hand out and wipe off some jam from the corner of Dean’s mouth. Before Dean had time to protest, Sam had pushed the finger into his own mouth and licked it clean. Dean stared at Sam but said nothing, his expression hard to read. “So what’s our next step? You got the witch to do the spell? My memory’s all hazy”, Dean asked, the back of his head throbbing again slightly.

“Not exactly. But I have the spell, translated. We can do it ourselves, tonight if you’re for to it”, Sam said, eyeing Dean with a weird look on his face. “Sure, why not. But what makes you so sure she translated it correctly? For all we know, she could’ve drawn together some mumbo-jumbo that turns us into cockroaches or some shit”, Dean reasoned. Sam gave him a highly patronizing look. “Please, Dean, how stupid do you think I am? Of course I thought of that. That’s why I marked Rowena with my rune. If she tries to fuck us over, the bitch will burn”, Sam chuckled. Dean didn’t know whether to be impressed of Sam’s cunningness or freaked out by his malicious ways. 

“With your rune?” Dean asked, his hunter side immediately interested. “I have a rune, my own mark. Every demon has one. That’s how I leave a claim on a soul when I make deals with humans so other demons know that person belongs to me”, Sam explained. Dean let the new information sink in, until an unpleasant feeling settled itself at the bottom of his stomach. “Does that mean I have the mark as well?” he asked even though he already knew what Sam’s answer would be.

“Yes. When we sealed the deal, my rune etched itself on your body, leaving a mark that lets every demon know that you’re mine”, Sam said, his voice merely a rough whisper. The possessive tone made shivers run down Dean’s spine. “I am not yours. Nor will I ever be”, Dean protested. Sam stared at him, allowing a slow, menacing grin form on his face, his eyes pitch black. “Yes, you are”, Sam whispered. He had slowly leaned closer to Dean and Dean had nowhere to run, pressing himself against the backboard and as far away from Sam as possible. “Whether you like it or not, you belong to me now, Dean Winchester”, Sam whispered, his lips just inches away from Dean’s face. Dean felt panic dwell inside of him but then Sam leaned back, got up and walked to the kitchen. Dean let out a shaky breath.

“We need supplies. I gathered most of them while you were unconscious but there are still something missing. And the worst part is, I don’t even know where to start looking for it”, Sam said as he slumped down on the kitchen chair, pouring himself a hefty dose of scotch from Dean’s bottle. Dean was too focused on Sam’s words to even notice. “What is it?” Dean asked. “A dagger of Behemoth. I need it so I can cut the demonic essence for the ritual”, Sam sighed, twirling his finger in the glass. Dean jumped up so fast he almost fell on his face, steadying himself with a firm grip on the space divider that was covered with happy ducklings.

“I know where it is”, Dean announced triumphantly. Sam’s eyes widened and his finger stopped its pirouettes. “What?” Sam said, staring at Dean like the hunter had finally lost it altogether. “My dad had this storage locker where he kept all sorts of stuff that he might need. Curse boxes, amulets, demon killing knives, you name it. I went there after he died, to check if there was anything that would come in handy while hunting alone. My dad left me a list. I memorized its contents before I burnt it and believe me, Dagger of Behemoth was definitely on the list”, Dean said, barely able to contain his happiness. They were finally getting somewhere with their wild goose chase and Dean was actually able to help in a way that was really important to them.

“Jesus, Dean. I could kiss you right now”, Sam said in awe, his face looking so joyous that for a second Dean forgot he was a demon to begin with. “It’s not even a long drive, maybe three, four hours from where we’re now”, Dean said happily. Sam smiled. A genuine, almost human smile. “So what are we waiting for? Grab your bag and let’s get going. Where is the place?” Sam asked and Dean’s joy took a small dive, his smile fainting slightly. “Dean?” Sam asked, a hue of worry in his voice that snapped Dean out of his gloomy thoughts. “Lawrence, Kansas”, Dean answered.

Sam gave him a look and first Dean thought Sam was going to ask him about it but to Dean’s relief Sam said nothing, just chugged the rest of his scotch and got up. “Can you drive?” Sam asked. Dean nodded. He desperately needed something to focus on instead of his gloomy thoughts. “Okay, good. I’ll check us out and I’ll meet you at the car. Hurry up, we don’t have all day”, Sam said, giving Dean one last look and exiting the door with their room key in his hand. Dean swallowed hard. He had three hours to brace himself to face the place he had sworn he would never return to.

********** (AN: original Castle Storage was in upstate New York)

They drove in silence and this time even Sam was lost in his thoughts. Dean’s reaction to mentioning where they were headed had not gone unnoticed by Sam. There was something about Lawrence, Kansas that was bothering the hell out of Dean. But Sam wasn’t going to pester the hunter about it. If Dean wanted to talk, he would talk. So they just kept driving in silence.

They reached Lawrence around four in the afternoon. Sam was pleased. After getting the dagger they would still have plenty of time before midnight when the spell was supposed to be performed. Of course, there was the matter of couple of missing ingredients, but Sam thought it was not wise to bring it up with Dean until the time was right. The hunter might freak out and ruin the whole spell. So Sam decided to just keep his mouth shut.

Dean parked the car in front of a huge neon sign with the barricades of a castle and the words 24 hours Castle Storage on it. They exited the car and Sam followed Dean in silence. He noticed the tremble of Dean’s hands when the hunter unlocked the door with the key he had hanging in a chain around his neck. The trembling had started fifteen miles before Lawrence but Sam had decided it was counterproductive to bring it up.

They entered the storage room, Dean going first and Sam following suit. Sam noticed the Devil’s trap on the floor because walking through it tickled his skin. “Watch out for the trip wire”, Dean said, stepping over the barely visible wire. Sam followed it with his eyes and saw it was attached to a riffle. Sam smiled. Papa Winchester had been one sneaky motherfucker. Much like his son. Sam followed Dean to the metal shelf at the end of the storage room. Dean eyed the shelves up and down, clearly looking for a certain object.  


“Aha!” Dean said and took a small, wooden box from the shelf. Sam’s eyebrows rose. He recognized the markings on it. A witch’s box. Judging by the condition a really old one. No wonder nobody hadn’t had a glue about the whereabouts of the dagger. Witch’s boxes were old magic, able to deter even the strongest of location spells. Sam watched as Dean opened the box, taking out the golden dagger that was decorated with blue sapphires. “This the dagger you looking for?” Dean asked, glancing at Sam. “Most certainly”, Sam said, admiring the beauty of the dagger he had only seen drawn in old scriptures.

“Good, one less thing to worry about”, Dean said contently and put the dagger back into the box, closing the lid. “So what’s next?” Dean asked as they exited the storage, avoiding all the traps his father had put up. Dean locked the door firmly and slipped the key into his pocket. “Next we play the waiting game. The spell must be done at midnight in a cemetery so we still have some time. I suggest we get a room and start planning, go through the ingredients and everything so there are no surprises when the time comes”, Sam said, absentmindedly smoking the cigarette he had lit up.

“Sure. Sounds like a plan”, Dean said as they entered the car. Sam rolled the window down and to his amazement, Dean said nothing about the smoking. When Dean didn’t start the car, Sam looked at him and saw Dean gripping on the wheel with empty look in his eyes, his face white as a sheet. “Dean? You okay?” Sam asked flicking the cigarette away. Dean seemed to snap out of his trance, he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bopping and glanced at Sam. “Yeah, umm, yeah. I was just thinking since we have some time… there’s a place I wanna go if you don’t mind. It won’t take long”, Dean said, surprising Sam by actually asking if something Dean wanted to do was okay with Sam. “Sure. We’re not in a hurry”, Sam said, rolling the window up as Dean started the car and drove off.

It was getting dark but the dusk hadn’t quite yet fallen. They drove again in silence but this time Sam observed Dean keenly with his peripheral vision. Dean was nervous, really fucking nervous, tapping on the wheel to keep his hands from trembling. Sam didn’t ask anything, he just looked around, interested to know where they we’re headed. They drove to the suburbs and Sam was just about to ask Dean where the hell they were going, when Dean stopped the car in front of an off-white, two story house. Sam watched as Dean stared at the place like it could come alive any minute and devour him whole.

“Why are we here?” Sam finally asked since all Dean was doing was staring at the house and looking nervous. Dean swallowed hard and turned to look at Sam. “This was my childhood home. We moved away when my mom died”, Dean said, his voice strained. “Oh. I’m sorry”, was all Sam was able to muster. He didn’t know what to say, Dean looked like he was just about to burst into tears so Sam did something he wouldn’t admit to anyone. Dean’s hand was lying on the leather seat between and without saying a word Sam slid his hand over Dean’s and gave it a quick squeeze. He was just about to remove his hand, sure that Dean would soon shake it off, when Dean took him by surprise and squeezed Sam’s hand, holding it in his own. Sam didn’t know what to do so he just allowed Dean to hold his hand as the hunter stared at the house with sad eyes.

After a while Dean removed his hand and turned his head away from Sam. Sam pretended he didn’t notice how Dean wiped away his tears on his sleeve. When the hunter turned back to him, there was steel in his eyes and as Dean drove off, the only thing he said was: “We better get going, it’s getting dark”. ‘Oh it got dark a long time ago, it’s fucking pitch black inside you, doll face’, Sam thought to himself but just nodded at Dean’s words, keeping his thoughts to himself.

**********

They settled at the first motel they could find. Sam laid all the stuff they needed on the kitchen table and handed Dean an old piece of parchment. “This the spell?” Dean asked and Sam nodded. Dean eyed at the parchment. “What the hell, are you able to understand this?” Dean asked. He wasn’t sure what the language was but he suspected it to be ancient Gaelic. “Yeah I understand it. But I need you to read it while we perform the spell”, Sam said nonchalantly. Dean’s eyebrows rose.

“I have no idea what it says. Why isn’t it in English? And why can’t you read it?” Dean argued. Sam sighed but didn’t roll his eyes like he usually did when Dean argued back. “Translating it into English is hard because English language is missing certain verbs that are essential to the spell. And I’m unable to read it because I’ll be a bit busy extracting the demonic essence to do that. Don’t worry, it doesn’t matter if you don’t understand it. We can practice the pronunciation if you’re worried”, Sam shrugged like it was no big deal. “We better or I might end up opening the gates of hell or some shit”, Dean muttered, organizing the herbs on the table. “It’s gonna be alright, Dean”, Sam said reassuringly. Dean didn’t answer him.

After they had made sure they had everything, Dean got himself some food from the nearby diner and they sat down to practice the spell as Dean ate. Dean felt relieved when he noticed the pronunciation was not as hard as he had feared and that the spell was quite short. Around 10pm Sam got up, stretched himself and started packing all their stuff. “We better get going so we won’t be late. The spell must start at midnight or it won’t work”, Sam said. Dean frowned. “We still have two hours, what’s the hurry? I don’t wanna freeze my ass off standing in some cold cemetery when we can just wait here and leave just before we need to be there”, Dean argued again. “Don’t worry, I have plenty of activities planned for us that’ll keep you warm”, Sam said. Dean sighed. “Nice try but if I won’t fuck you here, I sure as hell won’t do it in a cemetery”, Dean scoffed.

Sam gave him a long look. “Don’t flatter yourself, that’s not what I had in mind. We need to dig up a corpse and it’ll take a while”, Sam said in a tone that indicated that digging up corpses was as normal to him as doing groceries. “We need to do what now?” Dean said, his voice a bit high pitched. “Thought you might react like that. We need a femur bone of an old man for the spell to work”, Sam said. Dean stared at him menacingly. “Oh, don’t give me that look. It could be way worse, at least I’m not making you dig up a child”, Sam said, rolling his eyes at Dean. “Wow, that’s so generous of you, how can I ever thank you enough”, Dean said sardonically, elongating his words for punctuation. “Fuck off, Dean. Stop acting like you’ve never dig up a corpse before, we both know that the salt and burn is an everyday thing for hunters. Besides, I’m not making the rules. The spell is what it is. So stop whining and let’s get going”, Sam said, slinging the duffel over his shoulder and without waiting for Dean to follow, he strutted out the door. Dean rubbed his face roughly and sighed. He was so going to hell after he died and he had a bad feeling that a certain, bitch-faced demon would be waiting for him there.

**********

The cemetery was dark and serene. Crickets were chirping at the nearby bushes and bats were flying their pirouettes over the graves. Sam and Dean settled on a patch of green grass and Dean handed him a shovel. “You look from there and I’ll take this side. Look for any man that was over 80 when they died”, Sam ordered and Dean nodded. They started going through the rows of gravestones and it didn’t take long for Dean to yell: “Sam, found it!” 

Dean expected Sam to walk to him, but no, of course that asshat had to teleport, scaring the crap out of Dean and making him even more grouchy than before. “Do you really need to do that?” Dean muttered, digging his shovel into the dirt. The ground was dry and rough and hard to dig. Dean already knew he would be sore in the morning. “I’m a demon, Dean, what did you expect”, Sam muttered, starting to dig as well. “Well by all means, please teleport into the fucking coffin and fetch us our bone like a good doggy then. Would save us the trouble of desecrating some poor bastards final resting place”, Dean huffed angrily.

“Shut up and dig”, Sam said, taking his frustration out on the ground he was digging into. They dug in silence, only Dean’s soft panting and their combined grunts echoing in the night. Finally, Dean’s shovel hit the lid of the coffin. They removed all the excess dirt and opened the lid. Dean grimaced. Sure Sam had been right, Dean had done hundreds of salt and burns. But it didn’t mean he ever got used to it. “I’ll get the metal saw so we can get the bone”, Dean said, getting up to fetch the tool but Sam stopped him. “No need”, Sam said and with one swift movement Sam had ripped the bone right off from the corpse’s leg. “Jesus, Sam”, Dean said, actually impressed by Sam’s power.

“Come on, let’s put the dirt back in. No need for anyone to know what has been done here”, Sam said, closing the coffin and starting to shovel the dirt back into the pit. It took them quite a while, even with Sam’s demonic strength and after they were finished, Dean was exhausted. Sam on the other hand seemed to be fine, spinning the femur bone between his fingers like a stick juggler. Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. Leave it to Sam to have no shame at all. 

They put everything in place silently, waiting for midnight to roll around. Dean stared at the clock on his phone, his insides filling with adrenaline and anticipation. When the clock struck midnight, Dean put the phone into his pocket and nodded at Sam. They walked into the circle they had drawn before and Dean felt his heart race when the markings around the circle started to glow. “Don’t worry, that’s supposed to happen. The circle knows what’s coming, it recognizes my demonic essence”, Sam said, taking the dagger into his hand and the large chalice into the other. He nodded at Dean. “Let’s begin. Don’t stop the spell, no matter what you see or no matter what happens”, Sam said sternly. Dean swallowed hard but nodded nevertheless. 

Sam dug out a small amethyst out of his pocket and dropped it into the chalice with the femur bone before nodding at Dean who began to read out the spell, his voice shaky at first but something about the reassuring look on Sam’s face making him more calm, his voice losing its tremble. The more Dean read, the more the circle glowed, the runes on the side shining dimly, lighting the night with their eerie light. Dean almost lost focus when he glanced at Sam and saw black eyes staring back at him, the glow from the runes surrounding them reflecting from the dark abyss of Sam’s demon eyes. Suddenly, Dean felt a warm, unfamiliar feeling spreading through his arm. He looked down and panic rose inside of him as he saw a shape glowing on the palm of his hand, a mark, like two V letters combined together in the middle. 

Dean looked up at Sam to see if Sam had noticed but his eyes stopped at Sam’s face. On the demon’s forehead, just above those jet-black eyes, was the exact same mark that was decorating Dean’s hand, shining its almost fluorescent light, lighting up Sam’s face, reflecting itself from Sam’s pitch black eyes. ‘That’s Sam’s rune, the same one that is coursing through my veins’, Dean realized. He had kept going with the spell despite the fact that he couldn’t take his eyes off Sam. Sam was staring right back at him, the demon’s mouth slightly agape, like that was the first time he saw, truly saw, Dean. The last foreign words rolled off Dean’s tongue and he let the parchment in his hand to drop on the ground, without really even noticing it, too mesmerized by Sam’s rune to look anywhere else.

Dean let out a small whimper when suddenly Sam rose the dagger to his throat and slit the skin open. The only thing stopping him from rushing to Sam was the silent no Sam’s mouth made when he saw that Dean was about to do something. Sam took the chalice, letting his blood spill from his throat like water from a broken fountain, splattering into the cup but also all over Sam’s hands and on the ground. With horror Dean was forced to just stand there and watch as Sam’s face got paler, his grip on the chalice weaker and his legs shakier. Dean was fighting himself. He wanted to stop Sam, to rush to the demon’s aid, but on the other hand Sam had sworn that Dean was not to stop him, no matter what. Only then did Dean realize that the extraction of the demonic essence was exactly what Sam had meant, he had known that Dean might try and stop him.

But when Sam’s legs finally gave in and he fell to his knees and almost dropped the cup, Dean could no longer just stand and watch and he rushed to Sam’s aid, kneeling beside the demon who looked like we would pass out any second. “Sam, stop! Stop it! It’s not worth it!” Dean heard himself yell. Sam’s eyes were no longer black, they were back to their soft hazel as they stared at Dean. “Sam!” Dean yelled, trying to get some contact with the demon but just as he was about to put pressure on the gaping wound to stop the blood from gushing out of it, the runes surrounding them lit up, burning bright red for a moment before going out altogether. 

Finally, Sam let go of the chalice, letting it roll on the ground before collapsing right after it. Dean was by his side immediately, trying to put pressure on the wound but Sam had already put his own hand over the wound. Mumbling some words Dean couldn’t make out, the wound closed and the bleeding stopped and Sam was just lying there in the pool of his own blood, breathing heavily, his eyelids quivering as he tried to stop them from falling shut. “Sam! Are you okay?” Dean asked, placing his hand on Sam’s neck to take a look at the wound. That’s when it happened. It wasn’t like anything Dean had ever felt before. A sudden rush of energy and power and all the emotions ran through his body at once, making him dizzy and leaving him gasping for air.

Even though the feeling startled Dean, he refused to let go of Sam, couldn’t let go of Sam, like there was an invisible force stopping him. The feeling was impossible to describe, it felt like Dean was connected to the universe, connected to every cell in his body like never before, but most of all, connected to Sam. It felt like Sam’s life energy was coursing through Dean and Dean could feel his life energy course through Sam. Dean’s hand slipped behind Sam’s neck, just holding it there, marveling at the feeling that was filling him. It felt like light and darkness combined together and it was the purest thing Dean had ever felt. “Dean”, Sam’s rough voice snapped Dean out of his trance. “Dean you need to get me out of here. I’m weak, I lost a lot of blood and it can be fatal, the magic coursing through this place is not helping, I’m not able to heal here, I need to get out of here, Dean”, Sam whispered, clinging onto Dean’s sleeve and only then Dean realized how weak Sam was looking.

Once he snapped out of the haze a bit, Dean moved quickly, collecting all the stuff they had brought and shoving them into the trunk of the Impala before running back to Sam, helping the demon up and almost carrying Sam to the car. Sam slumped down on the seat like a ragdoll, lifeless and weak, just lying there with his eyes closed. Dean felt a coldness settling at the bottom of his stomach. ‘Sam could die’. The thought forced himself into Dean’s consciousness and he was surprised by how much the thought startled him. So Dean started the engine and drove off, breaking every speed limit and road law as he hurried them as far away from the cemetery as possible.

Once back at the motel, Dean maneuvered almost unconscious Sam out of the car and practically carried the demon to their motel room, laying him down on the bed. Sam’s eyes were half lid, he was pale and looked so weak Dean was worried he wouldn’t make it. “What can I do, Sam, tell me, how can I help?” Dean asked, almost pleaded, cold sweat running down his back. “There’s nothing you can do. If I’ll make it, I’ll make it”, Sam said, a small smile playing on his lips. His lips were almost blue.

Dean bit down on his lip hard, almost drawing blood. Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. “No need to look so grim, doll face. I’m a lot sturdier than I look, it takes a bit more than some mundane blood lost for me to kick the bucket. So, don’t worry, I’ll be here to annoy you to an early grave, you ain’t getting rid of me that easy”, Sam chuckled. The worried knot between Dean’s eyebrows loosened up a bit. 

“Go get some rest. Promise I’ll be good as new in the morning”, Sam whispered before giving Dean a lazy blink and closing his eyes. The demon started snoring almost immediately but Dean wasn’t sure if it was because Sam had fallen asleep so fast or because he wanted to show Dean he was able to annoy the hunter even in a comatose state. Dean rubbed his eyes roughly and sighed. It had been a long day and even a longer night. Dean got up and walked to his own bed, falling on the bed with a satisfied grunt and falling asleep almost immediately, dreaming of crown of thorns and hazel eyes but remembering none of it in the morning.


End file.
